An astute, observer might point out that if I didn’t want to be writing a paper on Easter, then I should have done it earlier.
And that that I would reply, that there was simply no way.
The last two weeks have been akin to life as a stowaway on the caboose of a speeding bullet train. The whirl’s left my hair in a bit of a mess and explains the back pain and exhaustion, but leaves little space for looking forward…like to Monday paper.
Friday papers are in my routine, but I’ve fallen out of the Monday practice.
I want to rest and celebrate Easter, and while my work doesn’t change the fact that it indeed remains Resurrection Sunday, I wish I could just stop and enjoy it.
Twenty or so of us went to the 9am service today, instead of the 11am, which kinda threw off everybody’s game (At service, I was in the last row of students, where a friend and I got a clear count of all the nodding heads). Again, to the outside observer 9am service might not seem like a big deal and a sad excuse for having a hard time paying attention– until you realize how late college students work into the night and what goes on all around us at all hours of the night.
I live on Fountain Ave, and it is warm outside. I will summarize what this means with a single observation– after stepping over the junk and trash in my yard, I found the trunk of my car glittering red with spilt mixed drinks and lemon in the morning sunlight.
I got over the morning hiccups, convinced not to succumb to unfruitful wallowing on the best day of the year and wore my best summer dress to church. It was still hard though. The little kids presented a small program that reminded me of all my little girls at Dunfee and their bright new Easter dresses, like the ones my mom made for me when I was a little girl.
It felt so weird, because not a single Wes student said a word about Easter– going to church, there, or coming back. It was just like any other Sunday. I know they were celebrating the day, but I think they do it differently in their cultures. I was really hurt by the lack of celebration.
I thought, in the very least, I would make the most of our Sunday brunch together, but just as we were pulling into campus, I got a phone call.
Somebody needed to get a friend to the Hartford bus station, and the driver who was suppose to do it wasn’t answering her phone. As much as I wanted to sit and enjoy an Easter meal with my friends and wish a happy Easter to my friends who work in campus food service and couldn’t go to service this morning, I had to say yes.
How could I deny help to a friend, because I wanted to celebrate the Lord’s resurrection?
So I took cold sandwich from the cafe and went.
And here I am…back, with Mr. Hayek’s company and 1,000 words before me.
I am still conscientiously choosing my attitude and am celebrating the day. I just wish I could do it without MS Word.